We all know time passes. We learn that fast, sometimes too fast. And we all figure out eventually that we are not here forever. Death is part of the deal. It is not a surprise, and yet it always is.

It boggles my entire being that I have an eighteen-year-old granddaughter. Not just any granddaughter, but my new roomie. Hilarious, full of fire and fun, she brings energy into every corner of the room. Nothing about her is quiet. She is bold and brilliant and beautifully complex, just like the women who came before her. She has my heart.

And then there is Blayk, my soon-to-be seventeen-year-old grandson. My only boy. He is becoming one of the best men I have ever known. There is something steady in him, a deep well of compassion and strength that humbles me. He is rising into himself with grace, and I am honored to see it. He has my heart.

My middle granddaughter, my shining Mady Skye Pie, is just two weeks away from her golden birthday. Thirteen. The edge of something magical. She is a blend of sparkle and steel. She is thoughtful and creative. She is already showing signs of becoming a force in the world, just like the women who came before her. She has my heart.

And then there is my baby-girl Rachel, now seven. Uniquely cool, endlessly lovable, and deeply missed. I carry her giggles in my memory like a favorite song I can’t stop humming. She has my heart.

This life, these children, these moments, these years… they move through me like a wind I never saw coming, but I would not live without. I would not trade a single second of watching them grow. I love them fully. I remember every version of who they have been and who they are becoming.

They each have my heart, and always will